


i got your back

by birds96



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birds96/pseuds/birds96
Summary: When Shao said “I got you, my alien brother,” he wasn’t lying.





	i got your back

**Author's Note:**

> this is rly short but it's been sitting open on my computer for a week so enjoy, my friends xoxoxo

“Yo, Dizz, do you got your nails painted?” Zeke asks one day. They’re all hanging out at Shao’s place. Zeke is sandwiched between Ra and Boo on the couch; Shao’s standing nearby, flipping through a crate of records they’d acquired in a decidedly illegal fashion; Dizzee’s lying on the floor, where he was tracing constellations on the ceiling with his fingers a moment ago. When he feels all eyes on him, he immediately feels his throat close up and curses himself for forgetting to remove the polish.

“Yeah,” he admits, turning his hand over to examine his fingernails, which were painted a dark blue color. He gazes at his hands as if he were just noticing the paint for the first time, too. Shao glances over, but says nothing.

Boo leans forward on the couch dramatically. “Man, what’d you do that for? You let Yolanda do that to you?” That earns a laugh from the other boys. Dizzee wants nothing more than to dissolve into the floorboards and disappear.

“I can’t be writin’ rhymes about you getting all the girls if you start looking like one,” Zeke jokes.

Before Dizzee has a chance to respond, Shao is talking: “Yo, why the fuck you over there talking about fingernails when you _should_ be helping me sort through these records?” He kicks at a crate on the floor to emphasize his point.

Zeke, Boo, and Ra scramble to their feet and join Shao across the room, immediately forgetting about the nail polish.

Dizzee looks up at Shao, who meets his eye and nods, almost imperceptibly. “ _I got you, my alien brother_ ,” echoes in Dizzee’s head.

Later that night, Shao drops onto the couch next to Dizzee. Boo and Ra had gone home for the night, and Zeke is in the corner, headphones on, scribbling into his notepad, murmuring rhymes under his breath. There was a kind of silence that was rare in the Bronx.

Shao grab’s Dizzee’s hand, startling him. He examines the nail polish as if he’s considering a fine work of art. “You do this yourself?”

“Yeah,” Dizzee says. He feels a lump in his throat, but nothing like what he’d felt earlier.

Shao drops Dizzee’s hand and nods. “Looks good, Dizz.”

“Yeah?” Dizzee breathes.

“Hell yeah. Maybe go for red next time, though. Matches our jackets better.”

Dizzee laughs. 


End file.
